The Beginning of the End
by ilovetvalot
Summary: The death of a relationship is the most painful thing in the world to survive. TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

**The Beginning of the End**

**Chapter One**

They had an unspoken agreement. She pretended that she didn't notice him sneaking in at two A.M. and he pretended to love her. Her spine automatically stiffened as she felt him lift the covers behind her and slide into the bed, the mattress tilting slightly as he settled into place.

Opening her eyes when the movement stilled, she looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, the bright green numbers glowing in the inky darkness.

2:21 am.

Once, she would have allowed the tears to fall and roll down her cheeks freely. Now, she only experienced a slight sting and could blink it quickly away. Now, instead of self-doubt and recrimination, she felt only the acidic burn of anger and bitterness.

"You're home," she stated tonelessly, keeping her hand fisted underneath her chin and her eyes trained on the eerie glow of the clock.

"We had a case," he returned with a yawn, his back arching as he stretched, trying to work out the kinks that seemed to reside permanently within his spine these days.

How many times had she heard that same canned excuse? Fifty? A hundred times? At this point, she'd lost track, each time he used it sounded more fake than the last.

No case kept a man consistently from his bed…from his wife…from his family.

No case kept her husband from her.

Resentment surged unexpectedly and she tried to swallow it down, but her failure to do so had been imminent for quite some time.

"Does this case have a name?" she asked without so much as a twitch in the bed.

Holding her breath, she realized that she'd violated their unwritten rule, and it was too late to call back her hastily spoken innuendo. Why had she done it? It wasn't like she was prepared to have this conversation. Having the suspicion and knowing the suspicion was true were two entirely different things. Was she really ready to hear her husband admit the truth to her? Was anyone ever ready to have the person they loved confess their sins?

Was _knowing_ the truth better than wondering about it?

She hadn't always been this insecure person that would just peacefully lie beside her husband now. Once, she'd had a career. She'd had aspirations and goals like every other young woman on the planet.

Then, life had happened. She'd met the man of her schoolgirl dreams and foolishly fallen in love with the idea of "forever" and "happily ever after". What a joke. Those things were illusions. Fantasies that mothers sold daughters on so that they wouldn't be saddled with their offspring forever.

They weren't _real._

_This_ was real, she thought as she felt her husband's eyes on the back of her head. He was probably wondering if he'd misheard her. Or, perhaps, he was trying to think of a suitable lie; something he could say that would assuage her fears.

He wasn't exactly a man that liked a rocking boat, so to speak. He counted on her to keep everything running smoothly, preferably doing so silently. She knew he was thinking that this wasn't like her – to question him or his motivations.

And he was right. She certainly never had before this night.

_**XX0000XX**_

He lifted himself up on one elbow as her words lingered in the air, the silent accusation as loud as any words she could have screamed at him. Of course, she'd never scream. That wasn't who she was.

He'd always appreciated that aspect of her character before tonight. But, now, he was being forced to read between the lines, and he hated that. He hated _guessing. _It made him feel like he was stumbling around a dark room, searching for the truth.

"Hey," he said softly, touching her rounded shoulder lightly.

She physically recoiled from his touch and he cringed. There was a time when that wouldn't have happened. There had been a time in their marriage where she would have rolled over into his arms and let him hold her.

Those days were gone now.

They lived in the same house, but it was hardly a _home_. They were polite strangers that coexisted under the same roof with the same attachment as barely-speaking roommates. Oh, they presented a united front to friends, carefully keeping their distance from each other under wraps. But, when the front door closed, they went back to being stilted caricatures of a husband and a wife.

He'd tried to breach the distance. He had, hadn't he? Efforts at having meaningful conversations were dismissed with cool smiles and forced nods. What had once been a lively woman now existed as a shell of her former self. Tonight…just moments ago…he'd seen the first shadow of the woman he'd married…it had been just a glimmer, but he'd definitely seen it.

"Talk to me," he whispered, his tone filled with a plea that he couldn't quite put a name to. "Please."

He rarely asked anything of her. Not anymore. But now, he needed to hear her, even if it was only to hear his faults being spoken from her lips. More importantly, he needed to _listen_. Because he had a sinking feeling if he didn't, he was going to lose the woman he loved.

And he _did_ still love her.

Of that much, he was certain.

_**XX0000XX**_

The covers rustled slightly as she flipped over onto her back and swallowed painfully. "Just tell me her name," she demanded softly, her words stark and bereft of emotion. She'd given up on jealousy. At this point, she just wanted to know the unvarnished truth, sordid as it might be.

The truth was supposed to set her free, wasn't it?

"Whose name?" he asked blankly, propping his head on his hand as he looked at her. The years hadn't marred her beauty. Her face remained smooth, unblemished by the passage of time. And like always, his heart skipped a beat when he remembered that she'd chosen to share her life with him. Watching as her eyes closed and she flinched, he ached to touch her.

"The woman you're sleeping with," she managed to say, her tone dispassionate. "Or am I not allowed to know the name of my husband's mistress? Is that too much to ask?"

* * *

_**Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum news: I'll try to keep it brief.**_

_August signups are open through July 31, 2012 for the "It's a Heat Wave Challenge!" Details can be found at the forum._

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_We also have another discussion thread entitled __**"**_**The Ups and Downs of Writing an Uncommon Pairing**_**"**__. Please let us know what you think! _

_A continued thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, review, favorite and alert our stories here on this site. We truly enjoy hearing from each one of you. Also, please check out our "M" stories at __**The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS)**__ and a Brand New site run by fellow CM authors, Kavi Leighanna, Sienna27 and The Truth Between called __**Fractured-reality. Com**__. If anyone needs a link or direction to the new site, please feel free to contact us through either a private message or while leaving a review and we'll make sure to get back to you. Each former "M" story is getting an overhaul as we publish it AND there are new stories being added all the time there as well._


	2. Chapter 2

**The Beginning of the End**

**Chapter Two**

He was genuinely surprised. And gutted. Of all the questions he had ever expected to hear in the darkened sanctity of their shared bedroom, this one had never even entered his thought processes. "There isn't another woman," he whispered, his voice ragged as he realized that she truly believed he would choose another over her. "I told you. We had a case," he said truthfully.

"Another case," she laughed hollowly. "Convenient. Are we _really_ going to keep pretending?" she asked him tiredly. "Isn't it wearing on you yet? Living this lie? Don't you just want to tell the truth yet?"

"I am telling you the truth. We had a case in Boston. The jet landed at one am. I went in to the office, finished the paperwork and caught a taxi home. That's all that happened tonight," he insisted slowly, feeling a white hot splash of anger. She wasn't just doubting him. She doubted his integrity, and that knowledge stung his pride.

Latching onto the one qualifying word in his statement, she smiled stiffly. Honestly, it was more sneer than smile. "_Tonight_. What about all the other nights when I've been in this house _alone_?"

Blinking at the raw cynicism etched in her statement, he shook his head. "I don't know what you think right now, but I've _always_ been faithful to you. _Always_."

Oh, how she wanted to challenge him on that, but she knew him too well. He'd never make a blanket statement like that if he wasn't entirely on the level. There were too many ways she could punch holes in his argument if he wasn't being honest. "Maybe physically, but what about in your imagination? What about in your fantasies? Your heart isn't in _this_ house anymore. That much is very clear. You work late every night. You work on weekends. You work and work and work."

"Maybe if the temperature didn't fall thirty degrees every time I pass the threshold, I'd want to be here more!" he returned evenly, instantly regretting his words as soon as they crossed his lips. His desire to hurt her had outweighed his good sense for a split second and now it was too late to detract them. The damage was done, but it wasn't irreparable. It couldn't be, he thought as he stared at her pale face. "Listen to me," he urged, reaching for her hand, "I shouldn't have said that."

Lifting her chin defiantly, she squared her shoulders. "Say what you mean," she invited sharply. "I should be grateful you're saying anything at _all_, I suppose. Even enduring your insults are better than that cold silence you're so good at."

"To be fair, I'm not the only one here that excels at remaining quiet," he replied defensively. "You've done a pretty good impression of a mute lately."

"What good would talking do? I tried to encourage you to spend more time here, but your career was more important, remember? It was always some excuse. Don't deny it now."

"I won't," he acknowledged huskily, watching her face for some crack in her defenses….a chink in her armor…some sign that they hadn't reached the point of no return with each other. "I have been trying to fast track my position at the Bureau. Do you realize how many would love to have gotten my position as Unit Chief? There were at least a dozen agents more qualified than I am in our department alone," he tried to explain.

"Congratulations," she said with a bitter smile. "I hope it's everything you thought it would be."

"I'd rather have our marriage be everything it _should_ be," he whispered. He had no idea how to cross the divide that separated them now. He knew he wasn't blameless, but neither was he responsible for the sins she'd convicted him of, either. "I love you," he declared vehemently, ignoring her cringe when he dropped a hand over her still flat tummy. Childbirth hadn't changed her body in the slightest. If anything, it had only added new curves to her already beautiful form. Her breasts were a little fuller, her hips a little wider, but she remained virtually the same.

"I don't want to argue. I shouldn't have said anything," she whispered, trying to dismiss the stirring within her that his touch evoked. Any man could produce similar sensations in her, she told herself as his fingers stroked against her satin nightgown. Turning back on her side, she reached for the coverlet with trembling fingers.

She was attempting to shut him out. Again. Scooting closer to her in the bed, he dropped his head to press his lips against her bare shoulder. "Yes, you should," he murmured against her ear. "But there is no other woman and there never has been. You're the only woman I've ever wanted."

Blinking back tears as his warm breath fanned against her cheek, she felt his palm sliding over her hip to catch the hem of her short gown.

"Please," he whispered against her cheek, waiting for her permission to continue.

Her mind warred with her heart in those intervening seconds when time seemed to grind to a halt. Finally nodding against her cool pillow and relaxing against the strong body nestled against her, she felt as much as heard his sigh of relief. She supposed he felt like he'd averted some kind of crisis as he slowly pulled her nightgown up around her hips and joined his body with hers while his velvety lips found her neck.

Catching her breath as he slid inside her, she gripped his hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. For her, nothing had changed. Her husband still had a mistress…it just wasn't a woman. It was his career, a more formidable foe than any lady he could have named.

And the saddest part of all was that she knew her husband assumed this was a new beginning for them. She, however, realized the truth.

This was the beginning of the end for them.

_**Finis**_


End file.
